Ron's Dirty Little Secret
by Raven Blossom
Summary: Does Ron acutally get so many headaches like he says he does? Does he really sleep while everyone is down at dinner? What is Ron's dirty little secret? companion piece to By the Woods and Draco and the Diamond Dogs.


This came to me in a brainstorm. I wanted to write a fic so badly, using Aerosmith's song, "Pink." But I had no idea who could possibly be obsessed with Aerosmith. Draco, Harry and Hermione are all Bowie fans. It would be blasphemy. (even though I love both).. and then it hit me... -light bulb- RON!

* * *

**Ron's Dirty Little Secret  
**  
"Ron, you coming to dinner?" Harry asked. Ron was under the covers of his bed, nursing a really bad headache. "No, Harry, my head really hurts. I think I'll just stay here," he replied in a semi-whisper. His eyes winced periodically from the pain subsiding behind them. Harry felt really bad for his best friend. It seemed that Ron was getting migraines a lot lately. He had suggested that Ron go and see Madame Pomfrey, but Ron had immediately expressed how much he didn't want that woman to fuss over him. Harry could empathize. "I know you don't want to, but if this continues, you really ought to see Pomfrey. Hell, I'll go see her and pretend I have migraines if you want. Get you some sort of potion to make them go away," Harry suggested. Ron opened his eyes slightly and thought for a moment.

"Maybe," he sighed. "If it keeps up, like you said."

"Alright then. Sure you don't want me to bring you anything? I could eat really fast and then bring you back some food?" he offered. Ron shook his head profusely, then stopped and winced again.

"Ow," he moaned, rubbing in between his eyes. "No, Harry, you go down and have a good meal. You need one. All those late solo quidditch practices you schedule for yourself have you sleeping through breakfast every morning." Harry turned a bit red. He'd probably have to come up with a better excuse to cover up his spending time with Draco.

"Yeah, sure. Don't worry about me. Just feel better," Harry said. He went to his trunk, grabbed something, and then went out the door.

A huge grin appeared across Ron's face. He heard Harry going down the stairwell, and then the quiet creak of the portrait swing open, then close. Even still he waited a few more minutes, allowing Harry to come back up for some reason or another. But Harry didn't.

Ron threw off the covers, grabbed his wand, and spelled the doors shut and locked. Then he cast a silencing charm around the dormitory. The grin failed to leave his face as he opened his trunk and laid out some clothes on his bed. He took out the DVD/TV that Hermione's parents had sent her, set it up on Harry's bed and popped in a cd. The screen came up blue and before it could start playing, he put it on pause.

He stripped off his robes and outer garments until he was only wearing his briefs. Upon his bed lay an army green shiny polyester tank top complete with matching jacket. He slid the tank top on, feeling the silky texture caress his body ever so slightly. The jacket followed, the bottom of it reaching his thighs. Then came the most unlikely piece of clothing anyone would ever think Ron Weasley would wear. He pulled the magenta floor length skirt over his head and down his chest, letting it settle on his hips.

The green and magenta clad redhead jumped in front of his mirror and spun around, watching the skirt and jacket flair outwards. He cackled delightfully. Not exactly Steven, but he wasn't gonna grow out his hair and change its color. That'd be a little too much. A pink scarf lay at the bottom of his trunk. He grabbed that and tied it around his waist, letting the excess hang down his front. He took the music off pause and a harmonica came through the speakers, blasting a whingy yet upbeat tune. Ron put his hands on his head and gyrated his hips in circles to the drum. He grabbed someone's comb from the bathroom and slid to a stop in front of the mirror.

"Pink! It's my new obsession," he sung along. "Pink! It's not even a question. Pink! On the lips of your lover. Cause pink is the love you discover!" He placed a hand over his heart and laughed.

"Pink! As the Bing on your Cherry," he sang, pelvic thrusting and then almost toppling over from laughing. "Pink! Cause you are so very!" He pointed at the mirror, thus pointing at himself. "Pink! It's the color of passion!" He licked his finger and trailed it down his chest. "Cause today! It just goes with the fashion! Ahhhhhh!!" he squinted up his eyes and wailed into the comb.

"Pink! It was love at first sight!" He bounded across the room and jumped up on his bed. "Pink! When I turn out the light!" He grabbed the end post of his bed and swung off. "Pink! Gets me high as a kite!" He began marching back up towards the mirror, flailing his arms by his side. "And I think everything is going to be all right," the rest of the words he mumbled, cause he still wasn't quite sure what they were.

* * *

"Where's Ron?" Ginny asked as Harry sat down at the table. Blaise had taken up permanent residence at the Gryffindor table and had her arms around Ginny.

"Yeah, where is that stubborn git?" Blaise hissed. Ginny slapped her on the thigh as punishment, but Blaise only seemed to like that.

"He's in bed with another migraine," Harry answered, ignoring the Slytherin. Hermione sat down right then.

"Migraine?" she questioned. "Has Ron got another one? If he would only just go and see Pomfrey, I swear. Someone should go check on him," she added. Blaise's eyes lit up.

"Oh? Can I? Oh please, please, please? Let me do it! I promise I'll be good!" she pleaded. Ginny laughed and pushed her arms off her so she could finish eating without being hindered.

"Yeah, sure, Blaise. Just be nice," Hermione replied. She and Blaise were quite good friends. She wasn't stupid to the fact that Blaise would probably do something to bother Ron, but Hermione had no problem with that. Because he was stubborn. Maybe not a git, but he was very stubborn.

Harry looked concerned.

"Sure you wanna let her check on him?" he asked, eyebrow raised. He stuck his hand in his pocket and fingered what lay folded up in there.

"Yeah, it'll be fine," Hermione replied. Blaise jumped up for joy and ran out of the Great Hall.

* * *

"You could be my flamingo. Cause pink is the new kind of lingo," Ron crooned. He was standing on top of Harry's bed again, jumping up and down, messing up the bedclothes. "Pink like a deco umbrella. It's kink, but you don't ever tell her! Yeaaaahhhh!" he looked at the picture of Hermione he had stuck in the mirror's frame and winked at it.

"Pink! It was love at first sight Pink! When I turn out the light." He began spinning in circles; the world around him was jumbled and blurry. "Yeah Pink gets me high as a kite. And I think everything is going to be all right, no matter what we do tonight!" he shouted as he fell flat onto the floor. The room spun all around him. He felt as if he was on one of those muggle kid's playthings. What was it called? Oh yes, a Merry-Go- Round. He remembers playing on one once when he was very young. His head began to hurt a little bit, but he could care less. He picked the comb up from next to his head.

"I want to be your lover." He sucked in a breath of air, sounding like he was hissing. Only it didn't sound nearly as sexy when Steven did it. "I wanna wrap you in rubber." Ron got up off the floor and heaved himself on the bed and into all the extra pillows he insisted on having. "As pink as the sheets that we lay on. Cause pink is my favorite crayon. Yeeaaaaaaaahh!" He jumped off the bed and went back to standing in front of the mirror.

"Pink! It was love at first sight," he sang as he threw his arms above his head and let loose. "Pink! When I turn out the light. Yeah Pink, it's like red but not quite." He closed his eyes, a look of pure rapture across his features. "And I think everything is going to be all right no matter what we do toniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiggghhhhhhhh-tuh!" He articulated the last sound and opened his eyes. They widened with shock as he saw a head of black hair behind him.

"My, oh my. Ronald Weasley!" Blaise laughed. "You put on quite the show!" she clapped, still laughing. Her eyes glinted in the way that made Ron feel uneasy.

"Fuck," he muttered. He ran a hand through his hair, wondering what he could do. For once in his life, a good idea struck him. He grabbed his wand, pointed it at her, and shouted, "Obliviate!"

* * *

Ron set the story 'right' for Blaise's memory and sent her on her way. He'd been so worried that someone would discover his secret. And Blaise was the last person he wanted to share it with.

He let out a relieved sigh and fell onto his bed.

"Steven Tyler?" came a familiar voice. Ron jumped up, feeling shock for the second time in 5 minutes. Harry pulled off his invisibility cloak and walked over to his best friend. "Honestly, Ron! He's got nothing on David Bowie!" Ron gave up being embarrassed and snorted with laughter.

"I beg to differ, Harry. The man is a fox."


End file.
